When I am asked to lead a retreat, something I like to do at the very end is have a moment of remembrance with God, a standing stone so to speak, something tangible capturing what God has done in our hearts.
At the closings of various retreats there have been glorious times of memorable sharing. Once everyone wrote one word or phrase from retreat on a key tag and the keys were posted on a large wooden cross. Several groups have had a certain place at retreat where prayers to God could be left all weekend untouched and unread. At the end of retreat those prayers were offered to God. Especially meaningful are the times we have closed with communion and offered bits of paper, our surrenders to God, as we took the bread.
After one retreat I was handed a small sack and in the rush of leaving I put it in my bag with hardly a thought. Much later I came across the sack, opened it, and began reading.
Words. Words of such tenderness and such pain. Words with such honesty that it hurt to read them. My first thought – Who wrote this? Overcome I read further. Could I have been so blind as not to see this? Did I talk to her? Did I sit beside her? Weren’t we laughing together? Where did she hide her pain?
Who is she?
I realized that as we were laughing over funny stories, whooping and hollering during an ice breaker, casually talking about our families over dinner – yes and exactly this: what was written on these bits of paper were the things consuming her heart the whole time.
This hurt and pain was what she brought to retreat. This was what was going on in her God-heart and at some point at retreat she spoke with God about it. And these bits of paper –
I was holding holy shards of someone’s heart.
And my heart… didn’t I do the very same thing? Didn’t I teach and laugh and share and talk about all kinds of things, when the one thing consumed my heart, yet I kept carefully covered? Without divulging what was entrusted to me, these words screamed the need for forgiveness. They cried out with life’s disappointments and begged God for something more than a shallow complacent relationship with Him. Over and again I read this word: judging. We don’t want to judge others, do we? Yet we do.
Do I know anyone? Do we know our neighbor? Who is siting at the end of our row in church? Who is doing our nails, our hair, sitting across the table at Starbucks? Most of all, who like me, is longing to take her mask off in a safe place with a safe person?
These bits of paper I hold so tenderly have made me ask God to peel back the layers. Make me more vulnerable, let my realness come through, let me not be afraid to know me and own me. On one note, words written in a scribbled list pretty much sum up every woman’s prayer: adultery, abortion, hatred, resentment, jealousy, judgment, sex, lust, lies.
I’ve seen in plain black and white who she is.
She is women everywhere. She is all of us. She is we. She is me.
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I am not through with this story. It is keeping me awake at night, thinking about her, about me. I desperately want to hear what God is teaching me. My heart is sad but it's open. I'll post on this again soon and again and go on until it is finished. I'll keep writing until God says stop.
Wow Suzanne this really touched me. We never know what is hurting the person that can be right next to us. This past week there have been two suicides of famous people, Both relatively young(50’s and 60’s). These high profile people bring home to the rest of us how many people we know are hurting and are silent with their pain. It makes you wonder if God was in their life; but sometimes I suppose the darkness keeps them from seeing and knowing Him. Maybe their pain is so great that it blocks God’s face from them. I was really “shook” by what you wrote. Please keep us informed about your thoughts on this person! Love you my friend.
Linda, thanks for reading, thanks for commenting.
Me too – it has shaken me and opened up my heart to look at others in a new way. And it has opened my prayers. I want to learn this lesson! There are many circumstances I think I’m the only one in such a place. I never see pain and hurt on people’s faces until it gets to the breaking point. Lord, help us!
Powerful post. People so burdened by “unspeakable” pain. The pain is obscured by a mask. We are not a question oriented society…it’s considered nosy, rude, obtrusive, getting into another’s business….maybe this was the reason Jesus asked so many questions. When we start asking questions and listening for answers, maybe people will begin to talk again.
In person.
Thanks Steph. Yes, this has really caused me to think and reevaluate some things. Jesus asked the question. More importantly, He asked the right question in the right way. That takes wisdom.
Some of my friends and I talk about how society is losing “the art of TRULY being good listeners”. I think people in pain give subtles cues they are hurting, but we may not hear? We are all pulled in today’s world in so many directions that it is difficult sometimes to truly listen to others. It is a wonderful gift though to truly listen and as Stephanie said above to ask questions because when you ask questions, you are truly listening. Your posts are always so though provoking!
Thanks! Good for you! I do believe good friends are honestly talking about these things. It’s important…and increasingly so. A big component is asking questions with love at the root. People who are interested will ask.
Thank you for sharing…I was really touched by this. The other day, I was watching a documentary on Mister Rogers (who I truly admire) and nearly everyone who was interviewed who knew him said that when he was with them, he was wholly focused on them and interested in them, and in such a way that it made them comfortable enough to share anything with him. I thought to myself, “Wow. I hope I can learn to be just like that one day…that I could touch people’s lives like that.”
The ability to truly listen to someone with your whole heart is definitely a special quality. And something I feel our media-distracted generation is rapidly losing. It makes me all the more thankful for the times I am able to spend with others that don’t involve cell phones, computers, or television sets. For the moments that are real, raw, and from the heart.
Reading your post has made me re-resolve to myself – more one on one time, period. With you (yay!) but with everyone I care about. Remember when I turned 60 one of my year goals was to spend one on one time individually with my children, their spouses, and my grandchildren? It took a year – but was the highlight of the year!